I am famished and exhausted beyond relief
And yet I still cry out to you from the deeps.
I want to know you as sparks of light
Confined inside the excrement of life.
That which is of Ayn straightened and manifested
Into the Aleph, fallen for an imminent disobedience
Foreseen by that which is twice transcended,
A parasite upon the dirt that he created.
We are, I believe, substituting one whore for another
(Though we pretend to crush that which we worship)
Whose essence is incinerating the souls of men
That dared not search God in death and depravity,
Or lusted like ravaging harpies for the soul of man
But of his flesh alone.
With bent knees and torso and in convulsions
(A ritual apostate dance to crawl from dirt to dust)
I beheld him with ignominy and boundless love
And I was shapen in iniquity,
For that which I saw and blinded me
To the very depth of my heart
Was but the one that bent down heavens
And came down with gloom under his feet
To destroy the man made temples
Founded upon sand and dispensation
Of false doctrines and ontological smokescreens.
"There is no hiding from the supernal light"
A soft voice whispered to me,
So that I knew that I had to take myself to the extremes
And break the chains of guilt and set the world on fire.
To Edward Kelley. Happy Birthday!
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